


The Eternal Debutant

by ADashOfStarshine (ADashOfInsanity)



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Politics, Sneakiness, takes place after "Proclamation of the Trifarix"
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27751216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADashOfInsanity/pseuds/ADashOfStarshine
Summary: The world just hasn't been interesting enough for Vladimir of late. Idling away the decades with simple pleasures, he keeps himself and the Crimson Circle occupied whilst the years pass him by. Over the centuries, he's dipped his toes into society, always appearing in historical moments with great flourish - the eternal debutant.And such a moment has now come. Noxus has a new leader and  Jericho Swain seems keen to make an enemy of all of Noxus' upper classes. Vladimir has lived through such changes before, but there's something about this new leader. Something so intriguing he can't resist making his grand entry all over again.Vladimir is back, and whether or not Noxus is ready for him, he's ready to be entertained.
Relationships: Jericho Swain/Vladimir
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	The Eternal Debutant

Seven days? How very generous to their new benevolent ruler. How lenient of him, to offer time that appeared sufficient, but everyone knew that a mere week was not enough to make travel arrangements and get across the border. It was very much a choice of one or the other – a decision that would hoist many wealth-obsessed nobles on their own petard. The next High City ball was going to look drastically different no doubt. Different enough that Vladimir might even bother to attend. That of course depended if the aristocracy still existed by then, or whether their new Grand General was lenient enough to give them the luxury of balls. Vladimir was not convinced by the platitudes in his proclamation. Jericho Swain had already weeded out the obvious corruption in the upper circles, upsetting more than a few social hierarchies. However, the man must know that corruption was a deeply insidious thing. Of course, you could cut off some heads, but the roots would still lay embedded in the very foundations of Noxian society. To truly obtain the Noxus that Jericho Swain desired, he was going to have to take up iron and dig deeper. Perhaps even empty the beds entirely to fill them with fresh, untainted soil. If he fertilised the new crop with a little blood then perhaps his ideas could flourish? That must be the Grand General’s grander design – only a fool would think his work was done yet. As far as Vladimir could glean, Jericho Swain was no fool. Naïve perhaps, but not idiotic. This re-swearing of fealty was but one step in a long plan to seize control of Noxus’ upper classes, he just knew it. And he was oh so looking forward to seeing where it went next.

Should Vladimir be concerned?

Well, _no_.

He had outlived tyrants and their empires. Seen the contents of history books taking place, watched the greatest works of art, literature and sculpture, being crafted for the very first times. He had stood on the foundations of the Immortal Bastion before Noxus had even gained its name. Spoken to the greatest minds Runeterra had ever produced, seen the mists rise on the Shadow Isles when it was still a place of wonder. Or so his diaries said. He didn’t actually remember any of that. The point was that Vladimir had thrived through worse than this. He hadn’t been particularly active in society over the last few decades, keeping to his own circle rather than that of the aristocracy. He could likely nap through this turmoil like particularly bad stomach ache, especially if he left the city for the while. Yet, he’d only removed himself from high society because everyone else was being so dull. Now however, now things were truly becoming interesting. A ruler deposed! Troops being returned, wars supposedly-ending, _and_ slavery being abolished? Finally! He’d been craving something interesting for years now. And their dear Grand General had brought it all straight to his doorstep. Have mercy on his nerves, he hadn’t felt this intrigued in centuries! Things were going to change around here, and there was nothing Vladimir enjoyed more than watching change. Well, second only to exploiting change. And there was going to be so many juicy new avenues to venture down as the city rearranged itself around him. Because no matter what was torn down and rebuilt, he would be there. Noxus could burn down around him, which would be a shame, but there would always be new places to ingratiate himself, new tastes to acquire. Nations came and went, societies changed, histories were rewritten, but Vladimir was constant.

And he was constantly seeking new entertainment.

Sitting a little more upright, he set aside his glass and surveyed the half-completed game before him. The white side were winning, but as he shuffled onto the adjacent chaise longue, he swiftly took the white rook with the black queen, making black’s chances far more favourable. With a sigh, he gravitated back to his previous seat and looked over the carnage of the ebony and ivory battlefield. This wasn’t amusing him anymore. He left the battle on the coffee table to it as he rose to his feet. Treading across the expanse of his parlour, Vladimir glanced through stained glass and approximated the time to be about noon. Whilst he did have seven days to plan his grand re-entrance into Noxian society, he was never one to needlessly waste time. He’d already invented himself a fresh persona. Vladimir, the young noble socialite who had inherited a legacy of fine art and contributing vastly to Noxus’ cultural projects. He was here to see the Grand General not only to swear fealty, but also to thank him for pulling Noxus’ troops back to their homeland. According to this artistic noble, less money spent on war would mean greater investment in the Arts, in Culture, in making Noxus a more pleasant place to live for all. To which he would continue to offer every resource his extremely wealthy and artistic family had to offer. Oh, but did he mention he was the last of his line? Very sudden. Very tragic. Mostly war-related. Oh thank goodness the Grand-General would stop any more people suffering the fate he had! He had his act worked out very well. He even had solid proof of his ‘family’s’ legacy. Various relics, paintings, statues and the like had been given to museums and galleries by men of his description over the centuries, many of whom had showed up in portraits or been described in museum records. Those men were of course his ancestors. What else could they be? The same man disposing of incriminating yet beautiful items as the centuries went on? Of course not.

He’d even acquired some modern Noxian fashion for the visit. As much as he was loath to set aside his usual apparel, he was supposed to be a fashionable young person for this encounter. And whilst he looked fantastic in whatever he wore, his current styling wasn’t that of the latest young people. When he asserted himself back into high society, he’d make sure to steer fashion back in the correct direction. Perhaps he truly had isolated himself for too long. Decorative shoulder plates? Spiked boots? Tying up your hair? Ludicrous. You would think these nobles were pretending to be soldiers with their choice of attire. He was certainly bringing cloaks with trains back as soon as he gained a modicum of a fresh following. However, he would just have to endure this dreary attempt at grandeur for now. He refused to give up on his colour choice – but red was as patriotic as it was delightfully sanguine. There was no concern there. No, what Vladimir had to consider was what he wanted the Grand General to think as soon as he entered the room.

He was currently battling between presenting himself as the idiotic fop of his fictional backstory, or presenting himself as a not-so idiotic fop who hid his real intelligence behind a ditzy veneer. Of course, the Grand-General should be able to see past that first layer of pretence, meaning he could drop the idiocy eventually. Yet, because he’d thrown up that barrier for the Grand General to stumble through, perhaps Jericho Swain would decide he had adequately seen through this aristocrat. He’d uncover the brilliant mind behind the frippery and that would be Vladimir ‘exposed’. Problem solved. He didn’t need to know that was merely the tip of the iceberg. Yes, he rather liked producing fake barriers that made people think they’d really uncovered the true him. They’d strip off one layer and think they’d bared all. But no, Vladimir had centuries worth of experience in negotiating without exposing himself. Tonight, would be no different.

For he did indeed plan to visit the Bastion tonight. If he turned up just before the gates closed then the Grand General would be forced to see him last. That meant he would have the man’s undivided attention, but also have his attention undivided on the general. Oh, he planned to have a long conversation with their new ruler, under the guise of caring for the citizenry. What they said didn’t really matter, Vladimir just wanted to get under the man’s skin. What made Grand General Swain _tick_? How did his mind work? How did his emotions make his seemingly-impassive face twitch? Vladimir planned to drink in the knowledge of him. Learn his every little detail, find the cracks in the armour of mental iron. This would be so much fun! More entertainment then he’d had in centuries! Oh, he couldn’t wait to take Jericho Swain and break him down into itty bitty pieces. Who knows, the man might even enjoy it. Vladimir had had his fair share of veterans. People tended to come back from war hardened and disillusioned, but they always unravelled to sympathetic ear and a selfless act of kindness. Vladimir had only ever seen the man in passing, but General Swain was a veteran, war-torn and grim like any other. Perhaps he could be softened up a little? Ooh, what a magnificent undertaking that would be!

Vladimir hastened to one of his bedrooms to seek out the ridiculous young person’s attire. He’d added some personal elements he refused to leave the house without. The burgundy corset hailed back from a gala once held in the Bastion itself by the old administration, whilst the shoes… The shoes had once carried him into many a meeting with the Black Rose. It was a fun little combination of histories to meet their new leader with and he’d undoubtedly look absolutely ravishing. Now all he had to do was wait for night to fall and the end of the General’s audience hours to grow near. He could hardly wait! Excitement had been such a stranger recently, and now it was back, he was practically overcome.

He smiled at himself in a mirror caked with so much dust he could barely see his lips move.

At last!

Finally, he could have some fun.


End file.
